


Whatever you claim (not) to be

by Port_in_a_Storm



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Prison separation era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 02:50:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10179038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port_in_a_Storm/pseuds/Port_in_a_Storm
Summary: Robert isn't coping with being separated from Aaron, missing him, and trying to keep everything else going all at once.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There are some truly amazing fics which deal with Robert's state of mind during his separation from Aaron, and this is my little addition to the angsty collection! (This is just something of a snapshot instead of dealing with the whole ordeal, and you can ignore the Rebecca stuff if you wish as well, as I don't even touch on it!)

Robert’s face was every shade of tired imaginable. He remembered time moving this slowly only once before: when he and Aaron were trapped in a submerged car, and he was trying to save his fiancé. Save him or die with him.

Fiance. Husband. Both weren’t enough to describe what Aaron was to him: his world, his everything, his beginning and his end. Now that he knew what it was to live in a world with Aaron, it was impossible to imagine an alternative.

Yet he was living it right now.

Second felt like weeks. Minutes felt like years. Hours stretched out before him like a black and hopeless eternity. If given half the chance, he’d probably sit and count down the seconds, minutes, hours until his husband called him. He’d break himself several times over, but just hearing Aaron’s voice for five minutes was enough to put him back together and sellotape the frayed edges. It was the only thing that kept him going now; the last fortnight was marked by sleepless nights, too much work (and yet not enough), and trying to keep Liv floating above the surface. In between was Aaron’s voice like a lighthouse, there and gone, there and gone, there and gone.

But he still had a kind word for Paddy, a reassuring smile for Chas and Liv, and an ‘I’m fine’ for Aaron. (He could hear the same strain in his husband’s voice as he did in his own, and maybe he should have followed that thread, maybe he should have listened each time his gut told him something wasn’t right. Even in this… in taking care of the one person who meant the most to him, he failed spectacularly.)

It wasn’t a spiral, in the end. It was a complete vertical drop. 

Liv was skiving and he hadn’t noticed. Then she was expelled and Robert lost his footing. How would he explain this to Aaron? He was supposed to be not just keeping an eye on Liv, but watching out for her, keeping her safe and out of trouble. How was he supposed to prove himself to be good, to be worthy, to be everything that he promised he would be to both of them if he couldn’t even keep their younger sister in school? He was useless. He was always the disappointment with his Dad, and now… now he was proving Jack right.

‘What am I supposed to tell Aaron?’ It was the thought going around and around in his head, but he couldn’t voice it. He had to be seen to be in control—had to be seen to be doing okay. It wasn’t that he was too proud to ask for help, but no one seemed interested (apart from Vic of course, but even for her he wanted to be strong). Robert felt like he was stranded in a car and driving away from a crash and a brother and a father and heading to places unknown again, unable to rely on anyone but himself.

He tried his best, and it still wasn’t good enough.

For days after she was expelled, Liv avoided him. He wasn’t even seething with anger: all of his energy was taken up with trying to stand most days. But she still avoided him and when he tried to talk to her, she didn’t answer. He could see the shame on her face as well; could see the way she knew she was hurting Robert and so by extension Aaron, and he wanted to tell her that he just wanted her to be alright; he just wanted to know what was going on. But she was avoiding him and his talking and his pleading, so he kept his hands tied.

He didn’t sleep anymore. He felt guilty for not sleeping. Here he was with a bed upstairs, a comfortable duvet, and familiar faces around him. Aaron was somewhere unreachable and uncomfortable and dangerous. How dare Robert not sleep? But the guilt didn’t make the heavy bruises under his eyes any lighter, it didn’t make his skin less pale or his lips less dry. It was tempting to go into Vic’s make-up bag, try to cover the visible signs of his exhaustion, especially on the days that he went to see Aaron.

Aaron.

His husband was looking terrible. It had been a few days between the first visit (jokes about family, about no one watching Robert’s back, a touch of the leg which Robert deeply regretted) and this one (a split lip, too jittery, arguments) but it felt like years for how different everything was. They were both struggling, and Robert cursed both of their natures for trying to cover things up, for trying to lie to make the other or themselves feel better. He tried to tell himself that the appeal would come good, that Aaron would be out sooner than they’d think, and then they could just pick up where they left off. Pretend that none of this happened, and that they had just got married and they had woken up in each other’s arms without having to let go. 

Except they both bore scars now, and Robert didn’t know how deep Aaron’s went, and he didn’t even want to hazard a guess. 

Did that make him a terrible husband?

There came a day when he couldn’t get up; when everything felt too heavy and too dizzy and too much, and he just lay there on the sofa. He didn’t even care when Chas came downstairs and caught him. (He was usually up before her these days—on account of not being able to sleep—and he’d clear away the evidence of making a new nest for himself on the too-small living room sofa.) She gave him a sympathetic look but didn’t say anything, and Robert was caught between wanting to weep with relief and weep with sorrow. (There was that day when he thought he could maybe confide in her, and maybe that day would come again. He wanted his Mum on that day, and Chas was the closest thing he had. He didn’t know if that was progress or if it was just sad.)

He could hear Liv moving around upstairs, and were he functioning, he would take the chance to ambush her; to get her to talk to him because he knew she was suffering as well. She’d visited Gabby again; she did that a lot these days, and whilst Robert was happy that she had a friend she could turn to, he selfishly wanted to keep her to himself as well. Because after Aaron’s six o’ clock phone call, and after Vic had left to go home, when Chas was in her room and when the pub was silent, everything in Robert’s head felt too big and too small at once.

The clock ticked. One second closer to hearing Aaron’s voice. He forced himself to get up.

**Author's Note:**

> Come have a nosy on tumblr!: [Port in a Storm](http://www.portinastorm.tumblr.com)


End file.
